


spit blood in the ocean

by gary-queen (sharlook)



Category: The World's End (2013)
Genre: Hospitals, Literally just a solid ball of angst, M/M, Mostly Gary-centric seeing as how Andy's unconcious and all, Pretentious lowercase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharlook/pseuds/gary-queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt from ifnotfortea on tumblr: after the accident gary goes to visit andy in the hospital while he's sleeping, and runs away as soon as he wakes up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spit blood in the ocean

after the crash gary never checks himself in to the hospital. he probably should- there’s wounds still slowly oozing blood across his arms and chest, even now, the next day, and his head is still spinning, the screech of metal bending and the thud of limp bodies against the dashboard still in his head - but he doesn’t check himself in. he doesn’t like hospitals, and even if he did, he doesn’t deserve this. to be here, now.

just being here makes him feel uncomfortable, but he has to do it. it feels wrong to just - just leave him. he doubts andy will want to see him, but the other way round isn’t totally out of the question. gary cares for andy more than he would care to admit, more than he ever admitted, maybe even to himself, so he pulls his coat across his blood-stained shirt and makes his way quietly through the halls, the soap smell of disinfectant turning his stomach, until he finds the right ward.

 

it’s not until he sees quite how broken his best friend looks that it hits him  
he knew it was real and serious before, obviously, but somehow, maybe because of the shock or the drugs or the concussion or whatever it never quite kicked in, but now andy’s lying in a hospital bed hooked up to too many tubes and with too many bandages covering his bruised skin and gary just  
this shouldn’t be happening, he thinks. this should be the other way around.   
but it’s too late.  
and gary has done what he has always done and now, now he feels sorry, but it’s too late, always too late, more now than ever before because his best friend is mangled and unconscious and he never wanted this to happen  
he never wanted andy to be here like this, but it’s more than that, he also never wanted it to end  
he never wanted this friendship to stop and this is- well, it’s final. there’s no going back from this.

  
all he can do now is hope that andy will make it

he pulls up a chair and tries not to wince as he sits down because yeah, it hurts, but andy might be fucking dying and that overshadows anything gary’s feeling right now (the thought floods his mind like an ocean. this is the only thing on his mind and gary’s not going to lie to himself and say it’s because of his weird attention span, because this is real, now, this isnt a joke anymore and it’s not funny stop messing around  _andy wake up_ )  
drapes his hand across the metal bars on the side of the bed and rests his bloodied hand on andy’s,  
waiting for something, anything, a twitch or a squeeze and he’d give  _anything_  for andy to just make a fist and punch him right now just like old times  
(he probably deserves it anyway)  
but there’s nothing.   
just the thrum of machines that make a mockery of breathing with their steady hum, and the shallow rise and fall of andy’s chest, barely there.

he feels like he should say something. thats what you’re meant to do with unconcious people in hospitals, right? but there’s nothing to say. well, that’s a lie, there’s a lot to say, too much to say, great fucking volumes of _i’m sorry i’m so sorry for this for everything i love you_  but nothing to say that will change anything   
but it feels wrong to not try  
so he licks his lips and tries to think of something, some way to atone some way to make up for this   
and it’s hopeless because andy can’t hear him but all he can do it croak out “please,” from deep in his throat and his chest   
his voice is weak and shaking like his body and he’s desperate but thats all he can do and it’s all he has the energy to do  
he tries to say sorry  
but his throat is closing up and his eyes are stinging  
so he just lets the word burn against the roof of his mouth, left unsaid, and he holds onto andy’s hand for dear life and hopes he understands. he always understands, right?  
…always used to.   
gary thinks maybe this time it might not be enough.

he’s not wanted here. not in the hospital, not with andy, not in this town even and he doesn’t know what he wants to do or what he has to do but he knows that that life he had before is gone and irreplaceably so  
so he leaves. because thats all he can do. thats all he has left to do at this point. 

when andy wakes up, heaving and tense, it’s as if gary was never there. he might as well not have been.


End file.
